Mass Effect: Abducting Ashley

No, seriously this is the final version.

Disclaimer: What, are you stupid? Of course I don't own Mass Effect! Why would you even think that?

Warning:
Contains bondage and elements of a sexual nature. You have been warned, so whatever happens now is officially not my problem.

Normandy Bridge:

Commander John Shepard stared blankly into the galaxy map. To any outside observer it looked as if he was brooding about some weighty topic of galactic significance. The truth was a bit more mundane. He was brooding, make no mistake about that, but the subject of his ruminations was a bit more...earthy. The Illusive Man, popularly known among the crew as Tim, had informed the Commander that his girlfriend (not his ex-girlfriend, as they had never officially broken up – so what if he had been dead for the past two years? As far as John was concerned they were still together.) would be on Horizon, the colony world they were currently headed towards. He really wanted her to join the new crew he was assembling to go after the Collectors. Though given that he was at the moment working with Cerberus, a known terrorist entity, it was very likely that she wouldn't want to.

He was sure that he could talk her into it if only he could get her to listen. He also suspected that she would be angry at him for, well dieing. Angry Ash was not a particularly rational creature and tended to hit/shoot/explode whatever had upset her.

It was quite a quandary.

Ah! There was one thing he could try...

He grinned to himself. Yes that would do nicely.

"Joker, set course for Omega."

"Aye, sir," replied the pilot.

"Sir?" His second in command Miranda Lawson raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I think the crew deserves a night off, don't you?" he responded, still grinning in a way Miranda found quite unnerving.

On omega 3 hours later.

While the crew celebrated their unexpected free time. Shepard had managed to slip unnoticed away from the bar in search of a very specific type of establishment.

Ah, here we go, he thought before heading into a very cheery well-lit storefront with some rather unique signage. The name was in Asari but underneath were several smaller ones in various languages. The basic gist of them was that individuals below a certain age were most assuredly not welcome and should seek their entertainment elsewhere. Shepard did a quick scan of the area to check if anyone was following him. Paranoia is a fairly healthy thing on Omega. Seeing nothing he then proceeded into the store.

However he had been followed, by his 'perfect' executive officer, and Cerberus agent, one Miranda Lawson. She had been quite surprised when the commander changed course for Omega. She had gotten the impression that he was rather anxious to see Chief Williams. Scuttlebutt around the ship was that the two had been quite an item before the commander's death. Or so the tabloids said; Ms. Williams herself had been rather tight-lipped about the whole affair. So for him to have a break now, when Horizon was under threat of Collector attack, seemed rather callous. Had they had a falling out? The thought made Miranda feel inexplicably pleased, and she didn't really understand why. Then again John did have a tendency to show up exactly when he needed to. It was like the universe was waiting for him...

She quickly dismissed such fanciful thoughts and went back to stalking, er, observing the Commander.

0-0

A half hour to forty-five minutes later, Shepard emerged with a large bag so nondescript it might not even actually exist on this plane of reality. Once he had left the area, Miranda made a beeline straight for the store. What awaited her upon her entrance made her pause for a moment. While being no stranger to the more...esoteric forms of human (and other) sexuality she was taken aback by the shear concentration of perversion on display. Simply put, this place had absolutely everything. Vids, books, costumes, equipment (about a third of which she couldn't make heads or tails of), everything any discerning pervert could possibly need, and quite a few things they didn't necessarily need, but would certainly be willing to give a good solid try, were on display.

A rather attractive Asari (Are there unattractive Asari? Miranda thought) came up to her.

"Hello Miss, may I help you?"

Miranda became all business. "That man who was just in here, what did he buy?"

The Asari's face fell into a frown. "I'm sorry miss but we respect our customers' privacy."

Being a trained spy Miranda was prepared for this. "Oh," she made a disappointed face. "I guess I'll have to be surprised then," she pouted, followed by nervously biting her lip.

"Oh, are you and he..." the clerk looked intrigued.

Miranda looked down shyly. "Yes, for about six months."

"Well that's different," replied the clerk, ushering her over to the register.

0-0

Shepard was in his cabin. They were finally on their way to Horizon, where Ashley was. He had all of his recent purchases spread out in front of him. Maybe he went a little overboard.

He sighed. This could just be completely unnecessary. She might be so glad to see him that would rush into his arms and come away with him no questions asked. It wasn't particularly likely, but stranger things had happened. He couldn't think of any off the top of his head though. He gave another sigh, put away the various aperatus and tried to get some sleep.

0-0

Horizon 16 hours later.

"Ash, wait!" Commander Shepard called after the disgruntled female marine.

His companions, a battle scarred Turian named Garrus, also known among Omega's underworld, that is to say Omega, as Archangel, and a heavily tattooed woman with a shaved head and the belief that a leather strap was just as good as a bra, watched on. The woman was known by many names, most of them variations on the theme of 'oh shit it's her, run!' but actually went by Jack. She turned to the Turian and asked in her usual refined manner, "Who the fuck was that bitch?"

"Ashley Williams, the Commander's," he paused to think of the appropriate human term. "Girlfriend. Well, probably ex-girlfriend now."

"Huh."

The indistinct sounds of an argument wafted across from the direction the couple had disappeared.

"Bet you a hundred credits she ends up coming with us," Garrus wagered.

"You're on."

Abruptly the arguing stopped. After a few moments Shepard reappeared carrying the aforementioned female marine over his shoulder.

"Ash is coming with us," he stated, daring anyone to try an argue with him.

"Goddammit Shepard!" Jack shouted before transferring Garrus's winnings into his account.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he warned. As hilarious as it would be he didn't want his friend beaten into an unrecognizable mass by an unexploded Williams. "She's going to be pissed when she wakes up."

"I can handle her."

Jack gave a derisive short. "Sure you can."

John frowned. "Let's just get back to the ship."

0-0

Shepard entered his cabin aboard the new SSV Normandy. He deposited his "guest" roughly onto the floor. He was a bit upset with her. After all they had been through together hadn't he earned the benefit of the doubt? He frowned. He'd have to teach her a little lesson.

But first he had to get her out of that armor. Luckily she still had the Colossus IX armor he had gotten for her during the hunt for Saren. Even if she had painted it pink for some reason.

"Pass-code: In Xanadu did Kublai Khan a stately pleasure dome decree."

There was a beep and then all the latches popped open. He then removed the armor revealing her sculpted physique, he gave an impressed whistle. Ash, now clad only in a pair of standard Alliance issue panties and sports bra, looked even better than he remembered. She had obviously intensified her training in his absence. He trailed a hand across her stomach. She was just starting to get a six-pack. John had always loved a bit of muscle on a woman, it was the combination of hard and soft that did it for him. He debated taking her hair out of it's tight bun, but decided it looked better up. Besides, it would only get in the way for what he had in mind. She looked so peaceful he felt almost guilty about what he was about to do.

Almost.

Quickly he shoved those feelings aside and instead thought about what he would do to get her to actually listen to him. He grinned wickedly and rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain. That trip to Omega had not been wasted. He checked his omni-tool. He had about twenty minutes before the sedative wore off. So he quickly moved to his bed and pulled out a fairly large duffel bag out from under it. He probably wasn't going to get to use most of this stuff, at least not all at once. But it was nice to have options.

Collecting what he needed, he picked Ash up rather more carefully than he had put her down, moved her to the center of the floor. For someone so strong and fiery, she seemed so small and light in his arms, a delicious combination of soft and hard. He let his hands linger on her body as he lowered her to the floor, enjoying the feel of her skin as she slid out of his grasp. As he ran his eyes down the playground of her body, he noticed the dark edges of a tattoo peeking above her panties. That's new…Curious, he slid two fingers under the elastic and tugged it further down, exposing the ink.

He blinked.

He blinked again.

He made a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat and pulled the panties lower to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

There, written clearly in a cheerful little arc over Ashley Madeline Williams' rosy nether regions in a heavy Gothic font were the words: 'Property of John Shepard'.

He went very still. This was… unexpected. Flattering. A little disturbing. And... extremely fucking sexy. John's mouth stretched in a wolfish grin, and a possessive gleam entered his eye. Any subconscious doubts he may have harbored that Ash would be less than receptive to the activities he had planned evaporated in an instant.

Much as he was enjoying the view, he pulled her underwear back up and got on with preparations with a renewed purpose. He buckled two thin leather straps around her legs just above the knee. Then, bending her right knee, he looped a length of rope around her upper thigh, and lower calf several times in a snug frogtie, repeating the process with the left. Wielding another stretch of rope, he bound her wrists in front of her. Her breasts mounded up nicely between her arms, squeezed together and barely restrained by the fabric of her bra. Rather than tying it off, he looped the rope and made a lead with it. Then, bending her double and drawing her knees up to her chest, he used the lead to bind her ankles together. Her legs were forced to remain tucked up high, her thighs spread wide to accommodate her arms, leaving her vulnerably positioned and entirely immobilized.

Next came a leather blindfold, which he stretched tight over Ashley's eyes. And finally, for the pièce de résistance, he carefully worked a ball gag into her mouth, securing the straps behind her head above and below her bun. That should keep the argument to a minimum… then again, this was Ashley, after all…

Checking to see that she was breathing comfortably, he stepped back to admire his work. Ashley looked incredible in rope. He tried to imagine someday trying some more advanced ties with her. His body tightened with anticipation.

" 'Property of John Shepard'," he smirked darkly, shaking his head. "I'm starting to like the sound of that." He checked his omni-tool. Ten minutes left until the drug wore off. "Better check my mail," he muttered, moving towards his desk. If all went to plan, there wouldn't be much time for it later.

0-0

Approximately nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Ash regained consciousness.

What the… she thought blearily. Her head was still foggy, but she could tell something… wasn't quite right. She tried to sit up, only to find that her arms and legs wouldn't go where she told them. Someone had tied her up, she realized swiftly.

She opened her eyes. Then tried to gasp when she saw nothing but darkness. Only to discover that there was something hard and round shoved inside her mouth, locking her jaw open.

Bound, gagged, blindfolded… A thrill of fear trickled like ice water through her veins, and it was all she could do not to start mindlessly struggling against her restraints. Hold it together, soldier, she reminded herself. Got to stay calm.

Easier said than done. Unable to see or move, she felt disoriented and helpless. Her heart raced and her breath sounded too loud in her ears. She ran her tongue over the object obstructing her mouth, searching for a way to dislodge it, and felt the tug of straps against her cheeks. Somehow that was worst of all, and she gave an involuntary little whimper.

There was a sound of movement, very nearby, and Ashley went perfectly still, straining to hear. She startled violently as something touched her. A hand, she realized a moment later, running up her leg and around the curve of her ass. She squirmed, balking at the tickle of the unknown touch and her own defenselessness.

"It's just me, Ash," said a calm, familiar voice.

At the sound of Shepherd's voice, Ashley felt her heart leap with hope. He would save her! But it was quickly followed by a sudden influx of memory…

I was arguing with John. He did… something… there was a clicking, hissing noise at my back. And then everything went all fuzzy and dark…

… and she came to a startling conclusion.

That bastard hacked my suit!

All combat armor had an on-board medical program to perform rudimentary first aid, including the administration of various drugs. Including, it seemed, sedatives. Whatever fear or relief she may have been feeling were instantly washed away under a tidal wave of sheer outrage.

How fucking dare he!

Anything that might have been left of her admittedly limited supply of patience was well and truly exhausted. With a shriek of pure fury, she lunged in his general direction – as much as someone tied hand and foot could lunge – the result of which was less than impressive, as she toppled sideways with a muffled "oof!"

John smirked, rising from his crouch to stand over her helpless figure, and crossed his arms with authority. He realized a moment later that she couldn't actually see him posing, but decided he didn't care. It was the principle of the thing.

"I can see that your situation is a difficult for you to accept at the moment, so since I'm such a stand-up guy, I'll give you five minutes to calm down," John said, his voice entirely too reasonable, but with an edge of suppressed laughter that made her begin to writhe feverishly, ignoring the discomfort and yanking at her bonds with almost murderous intent. "If by that time you still find yourself unable to be reasonable and hear me out like an adult… well, then you'll leave me no choice but to treat you like a misbehaving child."

Ash's only response was a shrill stream of would-be invectives acidic enough to peel the paint from the bulkheads - had they come out as anything more than a garbled morass of angry vowel sounds around the gag.

Ultimatum delivered, John sat back down at his desk, kicking his feet up with his hands behind his head, to thoroughly enjoy the show. Ash wriggled and thrashed, rolling around in helpless fury at the foot of his bed, searching for some way to escape, but to absolutely no avail. John couldn't help but appreciate the way the fine sheen of sweat that began to develop from her exertion made her curves shine enticingly, or the way her well-toned muscles bunched and released, full of strength and grace all completely tethered and at his mercy, or the way the ropes squeezed her body, dimpling her thighs and accentuating the swell her ass. She grunted and levered over, bound legs splaying in the air for a moment, and said ass shifted hypnotically as she fell in a tangled heap on her other side.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like waiting five minutes.

He rose with a predatory air, pulling his shirt off over his head in a single purposeful motion and tossing it aside. Padding forward in his bare feet, he unlatched his belt and slid it out of its loops, unfastening the front of his pants for good measure to give himself a bit of, shall we say, room to grow.

Ashley had paused in her struggle, teetering on her back, her thighs resting heavily on the squished pads of her breasts, panting heavily as she worked up the energy for another futile attempt. His eyes followed the gleaming line of her neck down to her tightly mashed cleavage, then lower over the soft and hard plane of her almost-six-pack just visible between her arms, then lower still, past the edges of the letters peeking out above her panties, until he zeroed in on that soft round flesh presented to him by the sharp bend of her thighs, accentuated by the bite of the rope.

He licked his lips and doubled the belt over to make a nicely pliant leather strap.

"So, are you ready to cooperate, Chief Williams?" he asked conversationally.

"Uack ou, ou woufr foufig agohl!" Ashley snarled menacingly and renewed her struggling.

John tsked at her. "You were warned, Ash," he admonished.

Without warning, he planted the ball of one foot against her outer thigh and shoved her roughly over onto her side. Before she could do more than grunt in surprise, he stepped over her, braced her body with his leg and her knee harshly with one hand, preventing escape, and brought the strap down across the creamy swell of her ass.

"Aah!" Ashley yelped – more in surprise than pain – but still quite a bit of pain. Her body jerked instinctively away from the stinging slap of the leather. "Foufig hashphrd!" she added for good measure, then shrieked again as the strap delivered another swat.

"You're being a bad girl, Ashley," he said, easing up on her leg slightly and sliding his fingers against the flush rising over her skin. She gave a breathy gasp and tried to take advantage of the slack he gave her to wriggle to freedom. His fingers tightened instantly a moment before he brought the strap down again, enjoying the way her ass jiggled with each blow. "Bad girls get spanked until they learn to behave."

Ash could barely believe what she was hearing. And then she could barely believe what was happening. But mostly she was just shouting and squealing as she twisted and struggled uselessly against John's grip as he smacked her ass over and over, and couldn't spare the attention to really make the effort of believing or disbelieving anything at all.

Her bottom had turned a fairly uniform shade of red by the time her body realized what her mind couldn't seem to grasp: that John only whipped her when she fought. Though it was almost insurmountably difficult, she finally made herself lay still, her muscles going passively slack under John's hands. Silent tears leaked out from under the blindfold as she worked to endure the burning pain searing her cheeks and upper thighs and she quietly sniffled, trying to keep her shoulders from twitching as she cried.

"Shhh," John hushed her, not unkindly. "That's much better."

John felt his face soften slightly at the sight of Ashley whimpering and trying to cry unobtrusively. He gentled his bracing touch by degrees, until his hand ceased to restrain her, and merely lay against her leg. After a moment, he stepped around so that he could go down on one knee at her back, letting his hand trail slowly, gently up her thigh, stimulating the reddened, sensitized skin – a reward her for her obedience.

Ashley shivered and gave a breathy little whimper, and John felt a first little thrill of triumph at this little submission. People like Ashley were often uniquely suited to this sort of thing; they just didn't know it. Half the fun was in proving it to them.

He brought the strap to her skin once more, but this time he did not strike her; instead he dragged the leather up the blushing curve of her ass. Ash drew a stuttering gasp, her back arching at the overwhelming sensation before a quiet sob broke loose around the gag, and she sagged back against him. John caught her, easing her gently onto her back with a firm embrace. She didn't resist, and his cock jumped, eager as a puppy with a shiny new bone (no pun intended).

Oh yes. He had her.

Ashley hated that she was crying. Up until now the tears had been of frustration, pain, humiliation. But being held by Shepard… by John… morphed them into something else. Something she'd never really cried about all through those two long years after he'd died. She hiccuped tearfully as John worked an arm under her back and angled her head and shoulders off of the floor, then gasped and shivered with a perverse and confounding euphoria as her abused bottom came into contact with the cold of the floor, sending stinging little shock-waves out into her body. Damn it! It shouldn't feel good! He'd whipped her, and it still burned and ached relentlessly. But now, in the wake of the pain, her blood simmering with adrenaline and endorphins, each touch to the reddened skin also made her shiver and tingle with an intense, confusing… not-pain. And that… not-pain… lit sparks through her nerves that settled as the beginning of a hungry ache low in her body.

More tears leaked out from under the blindfold. Ashley didn't cry. She was stronger than that. She was in control! Except that right now… she wasn't. John was in control, and he was making her feel all sorts of things she shouldn't. And… just for him… just for right now… she could almost admit to herself that it felt pretty good.

There was a bit of shifting, and an instant later, with a little squeak of surprise, she was airborne. John scooped her up, displaying his strength by lifting her awkward tangle of limbs like she was light as air. Yet more perversity, she decided, that she felt incredibly safe in the hands of the man that had abducted her, tied her up and beaten her. But… it was John…

He deposited her in the middle of his bed. Ash sighed with relief, and maybe a little disappointment, at the soft, painless caress of the blanket on her sensitized posterior. She tensed as he reached between her legs, hardly knowing whether she was eager or afraid, but all he did was untie one of the knots in the rope, releasing her wrists from her ankles. Slowly, giving her shoulders time to adjust, he lifted her still bound arms over her head, and she felt several little jerks as he secured the lead to the headboard.

"I've got you," he whispered against her ear, shifting her closer, his hands sliding along her ribcage, just shy of the edge of her breasts. "I'm here."

It was too much. To her absolute mortification, a moan freed itself from the back of her throat – just a little one! A teeny, tiny, insignificant not-to-be-regarded moan! It was nothi…

"Ngh!" she gasped as John's huge, strong hands slid down her torso, down, down, down to rest on her spread thighs. Her heart skipped and her lower body clenched with anticipation of…

His hands curled outward and down over her outer legs to the knees, away from the ache between her legs, and it was a supreme effort not to whimper in disappointment. She felt little tugs at the bands of leather bound around her lower thighs at the knee, and a moment's shifting revealed that her frog-tied legs were now secured to the bed on either side, holding them wide open. Ash had little time to consider how she felt about this, as his hands made their way back up her legs, over her hips and up over her belly. She felt them splay out, kneading and exploring her abs, inching lower, lower, and she couldn't help the way she gasped and bucked, her hips tilting upward in shameless invitation. She felt one index finger skim the waist of her panties…

The finger slid away as his hands moved back up her body, skimming tortuously along the undersides of her breasts as his lips descended on her collar bone, hot mouth working its way up her neck.

Her back arched, pulling uncomfortably at her arms and legs, and this time, there was no denying the moan that escaped around the gag. One hand came up to toy with the straps holding it in place.

"I don't think we need this anymore, do we?" he whispered again, and she swallowed hard and squirmed at the feel of that hot breath against her skin, before she managed to give a little shake of her head.

With a practiced hand, John unfastened the straps and carefully pulled the ball from her mouth, trailing glistening little strings of saliva. She sighed breathily in relief, working the stiffness out of her jaw. A moment later, John's fingers were at her mouth, tracing her wet lips. She was tempted to nip at them, but she didn't want to do anything until she was sure he'd approve. She felt good now, and still strangely safe like this; she didn't want to give him any excuse to spank her again.

At least… not right now… She could feel herself blushing.

"So, Ash," John said conversationally, trailing his hand down to the valley between her breasts. "Why are you really mad at me?"

The fingers slipped under the edge of her bra to spread her saliva over one achingly erect nipple.

"Mmmm!" Ash responded as he rubbed and squeezed and twisted and generally tormented her into a haze. The ache between her legs was growing more persistent by the minute. "You… ungh… you really want to talk about this now?" she panted.

John's cock was twitching incessantly, and he was coming to profoundly regret his decision to tie her up with her underwear on, since he was becoming sorely tempted to forget this little game, impale her on his cock and fuck her senseless right here and now. But he needed answers - and more importantly, she needed to give him answers, and believe it was her idea. This wasn't just about instant gratification. This was about teaching her that in the bedroom, her pleasure came from pleasing him. It required careful grooming.

Even so, he didn't want to have to deal with shoving fabric out of the way when the moment finally came.

How fortunate that he'd come prepared.

Toying merrily with her breast in one hand, John reached down with the other and picked up a sharp pair of blunt-tipped shears that lay on the bed next to two little metal canisters. He examined them critically in the light for a moment, then gave a little nod of satisfaction.

"Sure," he said evenly, startling a moan from her as he dragged the cold flat of the closed metal blades over the almost feverishly hot skin of her abdomen, enjoying the way her abs jumped and bunched. He turned his hand so that he could touch her there with the back of his hand and feel them contract, knowing that other parts of her were doing the same thing lower down. "Why not?"

"I…" Ash swallowed hard, her throat tight, and shook her head against fresh tears.

John didn't admonish her. Instead he pulled his hand out of her bra, then opened the shears and slid one blade up between her breasts, pulling the fabric tight away from her body.

"Answer the question Ash."

"John, I… look, don't do anything…"

John didn't admonish her again; he simply closed the blades. The sharp shears hissed through the cloth, and it snapped apart. Her breasts leapt free of the fabric, bouncing jauntily with the rebound, her taught nipples waving merrily at him like old friends.

"John!" she cried, and it was impossible to tell if she was rebuking him or begging him. But any scolding that might have been in it was steeply undercut by the way her head was thrown back in wanton abandon at the feel of her cool air on the flushed heat of her unrestrained breasts.

The only response Ashley received to her shout was a worrying little hiss as John picked up one of the canisters and used his thumb to break the chemical seal on the nozzle. He felt it warm to an almost uncomfortable heat in his hand, and he darted his gaze over every inch of Ashley's exposed skin like a kid in a candy store. Hmmm… Where to start?

"John what are you do..." He tipped the canister over and pressed the nozzle, so that a thin stream of hot, syrupy gel drizzled down onto her upper abdomen. "…ooooing!"

The sudden burning line of heat made her gasp and shiver, cooling from searingly hot to merely warm against her skin, and when he followed it down to lave the sweet-tasting gel away with his tongue, she sighed needfully. "Mmmmh… John, what…"

Ashley whimpered and gasped as another burning line was drawn along the line of her rib cage, and she thought she might burst into flames as his tongue laved it away. There was a second hissing sound, just like the first – another canister being opened.

"Answer the question, Ash," came John's voice.

"Damn it, Shepard… I… you… it's just… I'm not… " she waffled unconvincingly, trying to think around the intensity of the sensations and the want he was eliciting from her.

John didn't want her doing too much thinking. So he didn't give her the chance.

Ash heard him shift again, and held her breath, wondering deliriously where the pinprick of heat would take her this time. A gasping moan shivered out of her when an icy cold stream of gel poured out over her abdomen, pooling in her belly button. This time, the heat of his tongue was doubly stimulating as he lapped up the swiftly melting gel, the contrast of heat and cold making her bow upward off of the bed against his mouth.

For a while after that time seemed to dissolve into the background noise of reality as John reduced her to a creature of pure tension and sensation, heart pounding, body tingling as she teetered on a knife's edge of anticipation, wondering futilely what would be done to her next, never knowing what sensation she would be made to feel, where the next drop would fall, whether it would be a splash of heat or bite of cold, or how much or how little would dapple and drip over her glistening skin.

John began to get creative, painting her like a canvas. Any exposed piece of skin was fair game, from the hollow of her neck to the tips of her toes and seemingly anywhere in between. And after each piercing shock of hot or cold, she waited with baited breath until she felt his mouth on her skin, devouring the sweet of the syrups and the salt of her sweat with equal fervor and driving the sharp spike of need between her legs ever higher.

Suddenly, to her ecstatic dismay, two contrasting streams of syrup, hot and cold sprayed forth to stream and splatter over the quivering mounds of her breasts, making her gasp and moan as liquid heat and clinging gelatinous cold dribbled and oozed over her nipples, trickling down over the curves and pooling in the valleys.

John looked down at the feast in front of him; Ashley lay panting and squirming, her mouth wide open as though in a silent scream of need. He could see her sex clenching and unclenching under the damp cling of her panties, like a hungry little mouth looking for something substantial to suck. John's erection was all but bounding its way out of the front of his trousers in its haste to volunteer for the job. When he didn't immediately begin cleaning up the delectable mess oozing enticingly over her tits, she arched her back, thrusting them skyward and wordlessly begging him to lick them clean.

The degree of his own restraint in the face of the tableau in front of him was frankly astonishing.

And she still hadn't cracked, damn it.

Casting the canisters aside, he went in for the kill.

"Just admit it, Ashley," he said, his voice low with threat and promise as he ran a splayed hand down her belly and slid his fingers into her panties. She mewled and bucked as two of his fingers slipped between her slick folds. "Answer my question, and I'll let you come."

He began a slow, torturous massage of her folds, thoroughly stimulating her, but making sure to avoid her clit. At the same time, he bent his head over her glistening jugs and began licking, sucking and nibbling.

"Gyah! Ah! Ah! Oh! Mmmph… C… C…"

He drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard as one finger grazed her clit.

"Ungh! C-Cerberus!"

John's hand stilled, and he raised his head, letting her nipple go with a wet little pop.

"What about Cerberus?" he asked, a little breathless himself now, the proceeded to lick her breast from bottom to top with the flat of his tongue as he added another finger to his manipulation of her little bud.

"They… you… I… ungh!"

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that."

"You're with Cerberus!" she wailed, more tears of frustration trailing from under the blindfold into her hair. "You betrayed the Alliance! You were our hero… m-my hero… and now you're with them!"

"I do believe that's an honest answer," he murmured, his mouth still pressed to her wet, pliant skin of her breast. "Very, very good. But that's not all is it?"

He dipped one finger inside her opening, hooking it in to massage the sensitive inner wall. Ash let out a moan so loud and deep that it felt like it vibrated all the way down to her toes, flexing her hips pitifully to no avail. No one had touched her like this in at least two years three months, twenty-seven days and four hours (but who was counting?), and she was so close… but Shepard was playing her body like a finely tuned instrument, completely in control of her climb towards climax, and every time he brought her within a hair's breath of bringing her over, he drew back, denying her again and again. God, oh God, oh God, it was agony!

"Joooohn!" she whined. "Pl…please!"

"You heard me," Shepard replied mercilessly. He slowed his strokes again, licking a few stray drops of syrup from around the swell of her other breast like it was hot fudge on top of an ice cream cone. "Tell me the truth, and you can come."

"I… I…" More tears leaked out from under the blindfold. "Ah…ah… I… AH! I thought you were dead!" A sob escaped her as, and for an instant the pain in her chest overwhelmed the agony of the erotic ache inside her. "I lost you, but now you're here, and I… I can't… I want… ngh!" The words dissolved into incoherent moans as John's gentle strokes intensified inside her, his thumb coming up to tease her clit in time, rewarding her for her honesty. He slid up her body, watching her face as he pleasured her. "Ah! Ah! Hah… hah… ah! Ah! Aaaaah!"

"Good girl," John breathed against her mouth, and then his lips captured hers, and he swallowed her screams as she writhed against her straps, her inner muscles squeezing and rippling. They clamped down tight on his fingers for a long, suspended instant, and then Ash collapsed into the mattress, panting raggedly.

John broke the kiss, grinning like a cat with a canary feather sticking out of its mouth.

"I was dead," he was in the middle of explaining as Ash began to become aware of her surroundings once more. He pulled his fingers out of her body, the friction sending delicious aftershocks through her, and when he pressed them to her lips, she automatically drew them into her mouth and began to suck the musk of her own fluids from them. "But I got better," he continued as she moved her tongue around his fingers. "Cerberus rebuilt me. Don't ask how, I don't really understand it myself. But Ash, I'm not working for them. I might be working with them, but only as a means to an end."

The bed shifted and Ash gasped as the blindfold over her eyes was ripped away. She blinked as her sight cleared and sharpened, and caught her breath as she found herself looking directly into Shepard's eyes. He was leaning over so that he filled her whole field of vision, but she couldn't have looked away from him if she wanted to. Right then, he filled up her whole world.

"I'm still me," he said, and she could hear the sincerity in his voice, see it shining in his eyes. "And I still love you." He pulled his fingers out of her mouth so that he could cradle her face in his hand; his thumb came up under her chin, gently but firmly tilting her head back to expose her throat, the gesture at once both dominant and reverent. "Is that clear soldier?"

"Yes," she said quietly, trembling slightly for all sorts of reasons. "I'm…" She swallowed against the redoubled tightness in her throat. "I'm sorry, okay? And I… I still love you too." She paused uncertainly then, pulling tentatively at her restraints. "Are you, uh… going to let me go now?"

"No, I don't think so. You're a lot easier to deal with this way," John told her matter-of-factly. Ash huffed in exasperation. "Plus," he added thoughtfully, his eyes straying down to her lips, flicking lower, then coming back up to hers full of a hungry light, "I need to punish you a bit more. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Seemingly from nowhere, he produced a slender strip of black leather lined with silver metal studs. With a deft, practiced hand, he slid it around her exposed neck and buckled it in place. One finger slid under the soft leather at her pulse point and twisted, tightening it slightly as though to say, without words: mine.

"John!" she protested hoarsely, but it was half-heated at best. She was his; she didn't want it any other way.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle…" he teased, leaning in and cutting off any further protest with a lingering kiss. She felt his tongue tickling the seam of her lips, and opening her mouth, let him in, returning the favor with equal enthusiasm, sighing as that flame low in her body rekindled and slowly began to build once more to a hungry burn. When they reluctantly separated, he lowered his face beside hers and she sighed as he whispered against her ear, "…as long as you do as I say." The edge in his voice, and the warm heat of his lips on her earlobe sent a little thrill up her spine.

"But..." she started to argue, then stopped as she realized she couldn't actually think of a good reason to complain. She couldn't say she wasn't enjoying this. And hadn't he more than earned her trust? Didn't he deserve the benefit of the doubt? She looked up at him and surprised herself by nodding meekly. "Alright."

"Good," he said approvingly, reaching across her body. Something flashed silver in his hand. "Then hold still."

Ashley's eyes widened as he slid the blade of his shears under the band of her panties at the hip.

"John!" she squeaked as the shears bit through the fabric. "I need those!"

"I kind of like the idea of you walking around naked under your suit," he confided. "That is, if I let you get dressed any time soon…" The shears slid up her other hip, and with a snip, Ash blushed to feel them fall away, exposing her completely. John looked down her body and smirked, and Ash closed her eyes to feel his fingers trace over the exact spot where she was mortified to remember her tattoo was located.

"'Property of John Shepherd'?" he asked, an edge in his voice that teased on the surface, but underneath resounded with… desire.

"Um, er..." Ashley stuttered and blushing ever deeper and feeling completely out of her depth. "It's… it's just ... look, I was really drunk, okay, and it was right after you..." She turned her head away, unable to face the memory. Shepard then smiled gently down at her, realizing how difficult it really was for her to talk about it.

He tweaked one of her nipples playfully to get her attention.

"You didn't want anyone else, did you?" he said dramatically, adopting an abominably bad French accent and all the hackneyed seductive voice of a dime store bodice ripper, letting her off the emotional hook.

She gave a little snort, catching on quickly and sending him a brief, grateful smile before playing along. "Oh, yes, I… only want you," she responded flatly, as though reading from a card, drawing a chuckle from him.

But he sobered quickly. He couldn't help it.

"That's exactly what I want to hear," he said all too seriously, and Ash blushed helplessly. He saved her from undue embarrassment by kissing her passionately. Moments later, she broke the kiss with a gasp, her eyes fluttering and her mouth falling open in a little 'o' as his fingers abandoned her tattoo to delve once more into the wet heat beneath. He moved down to kiss her neck, around her collar, down the still-syrupy-sweet valley between her breasts, and further, over her soft-and-hard abs, towards that irrevocable declaration in black ink. And beyond.

"John!" Ashley groaned in impatient anticipation.

And then, and then, and then… a rough, wet caress, mind-bending pleasure, delirious, delicious friction, and then fiery delight engulfed her senses as John's mouth reached its destination.

"Ah! Ah! Aaaah! John!"

0-0

Outside Shepard's room.

"Ho Shepard, you dirty, dirty boy. Mmmm…" Miranda murmured while watching what Shepard was doing to Ashley on her omni-tool. Those hidden cameras were finally paying off; usually all she got was Shepard playing with his models - (of ships!).

Miranda had been watching since Shepard had returned from Horizon with the unconscious female marine over his shoulder; the famous Chief Ashley Williams. She was attractive enough, in a sort of gritty tomboyish way. No real competition for her, of course, but certainly a worthwhile conquest, especially with Shepard thrown into the mix. So the original plan was to wait for an opportune moment to insinuate herself into the scenario. But she hadn't anticipated the effect that watching the couple would have on her. It had made her ridiculously horny, and the longer she watched, the hotter she got.

That was how she came to be on the floor of the corridor, propped against the wall, her catsuit unzipped and spread wide open, exposing her bare body from neck to the juncture of her wide-spread thighs. Her omni-tool, removed from its proper place on her arm, was on the floor in front of her so she could watch the show while keeping both hands free to manipulate the not-so-little "friend" buzzing away between her legs (that shop on Omega had been a sleazy treasure trove of toys for every filthy, gutter-minded fetish she'd ever heard of, and several she hadn't). She might have been afraid of getting caught masturbating in the middle of a public thoroughfare (if she hadn't been too far gone to care) but she had it on good authority that Shepard had ordered the crew not to disturb him unless, quote "the god-damned Collectors come and set the fucking ship on fire again" unquote… or if his mother called.

Miranda tried to stifle a moan as Chief Williams thrashed and arched in the throes of another orgasm. The Commander climbed to his feet, yanking on some of the straps and ropes restraining Williams' legs until they released, though he left her wrists secured to the head board. Finally he stripped off his remaining clothes. Miranda's mouth watered at the sight of his jutting erection, and she licked her lips hungrily as she ground the vibrator deeper into her body.

Shepard wasted no time mounting Williams, so that only her splayed legs were left visible on either side of his narrow hips. His movements growing slightly clumsy with his haste, he nevertheless wasted no time shoving himself inside her with a thrust that rocked the whole bed. Miranda bit down on her lip in envy as she watched Williams' fingers, just visible above Shepard's head, curl and scrabble spastically against the rope that secured her to the headboard. They flexed desperately against the braided fiber with each plunge of Shepard's hips as he began to pound his rock hard cock into her at a punishing pace.

With barely enough presence of mind left to do it, Miranda punched a key on the omni-tool, switching camera feeds. Now, the angle zoomed in from the foot of the bed. Shepard's legs were braced in such a way that Miranda had a perfectly unimpeded view of his engorged shaft sliding in and out of Williams' slick, tightly stretched slit. Miranda groaned and pushed the vibrator deeper, rocking it in time to Shepard's thrusts and imagining that she was the one lying tied up underneath him, being fucked into the bouncing mattress. Her hips bucked erratically and she panted and moaned, jealous beyond reckoning that the pussy getting pounded on the screen belonged to Williams rather than her. Not that she couldn't share, but she wished she'd gotten to go first…

On the omni-tool, she watched Williams wrap her athletic legs around the backs of Shepard's thighs, changing the angle of Shepard's penetration. Frustrated, Miranda managed to reach the controls and change the angle again, so that it was higher and off to one side. Williams was digging her heels in just under Shepard's ass, demanding wordlessly that he force his cock deeper inside her and fuck her harder, faster, more, more, more, while she threw her head back and emitted incoherent shouts in harmonious counterpoint to the sharp thwack-thwack-thwack/ of the headboard against the bulkhead.

Shepard raised up slightly, obliging her, and Miranda was almost mesmerized by the way Williams tits jolted and jiggled this way and that with the force Shepard's rapid thrusts. Miranda reached up with one hand and began kneading and twisting her own breast in sympathy, thumbing the throttle on her toy up to the maximum setting. She thought she heard a series of loud moans and muffled shouts from the couple inside the room, but she couldn't be sure as everything but the sensations building in her body faded into the background.

0-0

Inside Shepard's room, post-coitus.

Ash and John where drenched in sweat as he laid on top of her. After catching their breath they then kissed passionately. As they kissed he untied her wrists. Once they were free she pulled him into a passionate embrace.

"I've missed this." she said after breaking the kiss. "Well," she paused, looking away, "not exactly this, but you know… us. Together."

"Same here," he replied.

"I er… kind of liked the uh… ropes and stuff," she stuttered, blushing.

"I had a feeling you would."

Just as they where about to kiss again a loud moan made them look at the door. Shepard then slid to the side of the bed while Ash sat up.

"EDI who's outside my room?" he asked with a concerned voice.

"Who's EDI?"

"She's the Normandy's AI."

"WHAT?" Ashley yelled, her face going red. "AN AI WAS WATCHING US DO IT?!"

"Hell no, I turned off the cameras in here so she couldn't," he lied, hoping that EDI had been recording it like he asked.

"Operative Lawson is outside with a number of pleasure implements," EDI said over the comm.

"Who the hell is Operative Lawson?" interrupted Ashley.

"She's the XO. Cerberus," John answered honestly.

"Wait, SHE?"

"Er, yeah. She was head of the team that put me back together," he answered warily.

"Then she must have seen you naked," Ash's mind raced, imagining the possibilities." And she's been watching us while masturbating?"

"Yes," confirmed Edi.

Both Ashley's and Shepard's faces went red. Significantly, Ash's eyes also narrowed in anger.

"Ash?" He said.

"Yes?" she said with a dark look.

"Don't kill her. I need her to run the ship."

She gave some thought to this, then smiled evilly.

"Fine. But that's it."

"Good enough. EDI lock the elevator so that Miranda can't get away," he ordered while walking to his desk.

"The elevator will not come to this level commander," EDI confirmed.

Ash cracked her knuckles.

0-0

Outside Shepard's room.

Miranda's omni-tool had long ago been inadvertently knocked aside and shut off as she leaned back, manipulating the vibrator harder and faster. A loud moan escaped her as she arched against the wall before her hands dropped to the ground.

"If...I...keep...on...doing...this...I'll...become obsessed," she panted breathily.

Operative Lawson was in such a state of bliss that she entirely failed to notice Hurricane Ashley headed straight for her. Much to her later regret.

She was quickly made aware of her grievous mistake when the front of her catsuit was zipped violently up, trapping her arms inside and rendering her effectively helpless.

"Hello, bitch."

"A-ah," Miranda stammered, looking up, up, up to find an irate Ashley standing over her, buck naked and sticky in all sorts of interesting places, the red stripes where the rope had bound her still livid red on the creamy white skin of her arms and legs. Caught in such a compromising position, Miranda rather unwisely tried to play it off. "Why, Chief Williams I don't believe we've been introduced, I'm –"

She was unable to continue her introduction due to the interdiction of the Williams forehead traveling at roughly escape velocity.

Shepard winced at the loud CRACK that reverberated through his cabin.

"I know who you are," Ashley said to Miranda's unconscious form. Then she grabbed the XO's ankle and dragged her into the cabin, briefly returning to collect the small bag of toys Miranda had brought with her.

So, Damn, anyone else need a cigarette? Born-of-elven-blood, ladies and gentlemen, doing amazing things with my shitty ideas since...Roughly March, I think.

Given the wonderful job she did on the second chapter, I asked her (rather nicely I might add.) if she would mind having a crack at chapter one, guess what she said? I contributed a new intro as well, just so I wouldn't feel like a giant lump.

So this is definitely the final version of this story, no more rewrites. Not to say they're won't be more colaborations in the future, probably in another fandom though, had my eye on Soul Calibur for a while now...

Anyway, leave a review.

Ta!